


Saturday. Maybe.

by holyrobo



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Flirting, Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:59:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/993269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyrobo/pseuds/holyrobo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kise is desperate for a date with his precious Kurokocchi and when things don't turn out how he expects, he relies on terrible pick-up lines he got from the internet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saturday. Maybe.

 

 _‘To: kurokocchi <3_  
_Subject: saturday? maybe?  (^・ω・^ )?, sent; 18:57_  
_Message: kurokocchi!!! i was thinking that maybe if you dont have anything planned for the weekend we could go see a movie together (*^▽^*)? i know how hard you work with the seirin team so i figured you could use a break from all the practice!! there are some good films coming up too since its almost halloween (wah! spooky ヽ(≧Д≦)ノ)_  
_we could probably go watch a new horror film together but i mean if youre too scared you can hold onto my arm if you like i will protect you at all costs!!!! i will be your knight in shining armour (－ｏ⌒)!! and anyway ill pay for tickets and popcorn (you prefer sweet right??? eww) or maybe if you dont want popcorn ill pay for whatever sweets you want too so whatever!!! basically dont worry about expenses itll be my treat ☆☆☆  
__anyway this is getting kind of long so OK get back to me a.s.a.p! bye-bye （○゜ε＾○）’_

 

Flopping back against his bed, teenage heart throb to many a girl Ryouta Kise smiled and squirmed at the masterful text he’d spent almost half an hour lovingly constructing and perfecting. He figured, with the amount of effort and charm he’d poured into it, there was no way that Kuroko would ever turn him down. It was true that he’d made sure to try and not make it sound like a formal date invitation, even though that was essentially what it was; and that he’d probably put too many emoticons for his own good (what could he say? He’d been nervous just writing it) but it would have to do. It was now or never, he told himself sternly. Finally, his years of practice with girls had meant that he could be suggestive, but not overbearing; cute, but not sickly; and manly, but not camp – and that he could actually get a date with his precious Kurokocchi.

This, he figured as he stared up at the ceiling with his eyes watering from excitement, was the pinnacle of his entire life. He had truly suppressed the smoothest of bachelors; the most romantic of romancers. He would go down in the history books as a hero to mankind.

Time began to tick painfully slowly. His fingers, long pale and slender, drummed on the back of his phone as he waited for the inevitable; “oh yes, kise-kun. of course i will go out with you. i get scared at horror films so maybe i will be hiding against you more than actually watching the film though. i hope you don’t mind.”

Light began to fade from the window above his bed faster than the reply came. It took half an hour for Kise to get worried he wouldn’t get a reply. Maybe, he thought, as he made sure he had actually sent the message for the tenth time; maybe he’s too shy to say he wants to meet up with me. Maybe I am too good, he told himself.

It was the soft buzzing of his phone against his stomach that woke him up. Kise was famously not the best of morning people, but it wasn’t quite morning yet and plus, he’d just got a text probably from Kuroko after – ‘wow’, he breathed after looking at the clock on the table beside his bed: it had taken Kuroko almost two hours to reply.

_‘From: kurokocchi <3_  
_Subject: Reply @ ‘saturday? maybe?  (^・ω・^ )?’, received; 20:12  
_ _Message: I cannot. I promised I would train with Kagami-kun.’_

 

“Oh,” said Kise, flipping the lid back down on his phone and lying back against his mattress. “It looks like I’ll have to try harder, then.”

 

**

 

“Oooooi! Kurokocchi!”

“Oh my God,” muttered Kagami as he stood at the invisible boy’s side watching the model run towards them while waving frantically. They’d just got out of practice for that afternoon and it seemed like they could not escape from the Generation of Miracle’s grip even when basket ball _wasn’t_ concerned.

“Whoa, I am _outta_ here. Later, Kuroko,” muttered Kagami hurriedly as he set off down the opposite way from Kise. It wasn’t the way back to his apartment but he figured he’d rather take the long way around than be sandwiched between the unbearable sexual tension of Teiko’s previous number 15 and 8. Most of which, he had to admit, came from number 8. As much as he respected Kise, he didn’t quite get him.

“Kise-kun? Is everything okay?”

‘This is my moment,’ thought Kise as he folded his arms behind his neck and flashed his affectionately nicknamed ‘lady-killer’ smile; ‘just as rehearsed, just as rehearsed,’ he chanted mentally in an unsuccessful way to calm his raging nerves.

“Whooooa,” he said after a moment, bending down slightly to gaze at Kuroko’s face and to be within kissing distance if his plan went especially well; “no wonder the sky’s so grey today! All the blue is in your eyes!”

There was a long, deadly pause which Kise mostly spent panicking on whether Kuroko could hear his embarrassingly loud heartbeat or not and keeping his breathing regular.

“That is the worst pick up line I have ever heard, Kise-kun. You won’t get a girlfriend with that,” said Kuroko, frowning up at the blonde man who was sweating much more than he should’ve been for an autumn afternoon. “Anyway,” continued the blue boy. “Was there something you needed from me?”

“Y-yes! Directions!” Kise blurted, standing up straight and wiping the previous ten seconds from his mind. This was his moment, he said mentally. Maybe rehearsed things just didn’t work for him. He would have to try freestyle flirting.

“Where to?”

“Your heart.”

Kuroko cracked a smile then, his eyes moving down to look at the floor. Kise guessed that if the boy was actually capable of blushing he would do so. (Or, of course, his pick up line was just so bad that he’d given Kuroko a large dose of second hand embarrassment. Better not think about that option.) He was getting there. He was breaking through the hard exterior of a toffee and slowly making his way towards the chocolate center. So far so good, he told himself.

“Kise-kun, I really have to get home,” he said quietly. It wasn’t quite the dream reply Kise had pinned his hopes on but he figured it would have to do. It was an opening to the answer if not the answer itself.

“Can I walk you home then?” Kise asked hopefully, his smile widening with the idea of walking the smaller boy home and maybe – just maybe – kissing him good-bye at his doorstep? ‘Oh, God,’ he said mentally; ‘take it easy.’ He feared that he was getting in much too deep much too quickly.

“You need a hobby, Kise-kun,” Kuroko said as he turned and started to walk. That, in Kuroko language (it had taken years of practice learning it on Kise’s behalf) meant, ‘sure, okay.’ His heart thumped slightly as his strode over to catch up.

“Ah, anyway! How are you, Kurokocchi?” ‘Best to get the conversation going nicely,’ he thought, holding onto his bag with one hand and placing the other in his jacket pocket. ‘Smoothly. Offer in as many compliments and pick up lines as possible. Do not stop at any cost. You’ve got this, Ryouta, you smooth devil, you.’

“Fine,” replied Kuroko, not looking up at his companion as he walked twice as fast as usual to keep up with Kise’s longer strides.

“Hey!” Laughed the blonde, quickly altering the size of his steps to match the walking pace of his – hopefully by the time he’d delivered Kuroko back home – date, “I asked you how you were, not how you looked!”

Kuroko did not answer. He simply stared at the floor with his eyes slightly wider than usual. If you were to look up the definition of 'mortified' in the dictionary, it would be very likely that all that would be there would be a photograph of the small boy's face. 

A few minutes passed of the pair walking in silence, the awkwardness between them growing almost unbearable and suffocating. Kise realised he had to act fast or he would lose this all together. Everything he worked for would be lost and maybe he would never get –

“Hey, Kuroko?” His mouth was running without his brain; “I’ve always wondered but... Are you religious?” Pleased with the smoothness of the upcoming punchline he’d thought up, Kise allowed himself to relax. He would show the world the true romancing power of Ryouta Kise. He could see the headlines flashing before his eyes now.

“No, not really,” replied Kuroko, sounding bored and tired already.

“That’s surprising considering you’re the answer to all my prayers,” shot back Kise, applying his ‘lady-killer’ smile once again in the hopes that Kuroko would actually look at him for the first time since they started walking. He didn’t.

“Kise-kun, I am _not_ going to answer any more of your questions.”

That was it. The end of the road. The mental newspaper that Kise had imagined got shredded. The cameras stopped taking photos. His career was well and truly over for good. How could he ever look his mother in the eye again? He was a failure to the family name. He guessed it was time to pull out his final trick. The final line and the one he had the most confidence in. If this didn’t work then all the time he’d spent yesterday night researching and memorizing effective pick-up lines would be for nothing.

“Um, Kurokocchi?”

No answer.

“Ah, you don’t have to reply, I guess, I just wanted to know if you’d hold this for me while we’re walking,” he said, quietly, sincerely. He held out his hand – which was not quite as pretty as Midorima’s; not quite as big as Murasakibara’s but not quite as small as Akashi’s and definitely not quite as worn as Aomine’s.

He was surprised when Kuroko held it and shoved it into the pocket on his own jacket and continued walking. Kise didn’t even see him blink once.

It was even more awkward than it had been before. Having your hand being held by someone you admire is great. Having your hand held by someone you admire inside the pocket on their jacket is even greater. However, having your hand held by someone you admire, who, unfortunately is quite shorter than you, inside the pocket on their jacket, is not as enjoyable.

Kise was forced into an awkward stance, half bent over on his right so that his hand could be encased by Kuroko’s. He wondered then, what despicable thing he’d done wrong in all his sixteen years that meant that he had to be punished in this way. He was fighting the urge to ask if their hands could occupy his own pocket instead of Kuroko’s, (which, to be honest, made more sense anyway since Kuroko would have to lift his arm instead of making Kise strain down to the shorter’s level) but that was rude, and it was guaranteed that Kuroko would actually agree to it. Maybe he’d just let go of his hand all together and that would suck after all his hard work.

It was painful all the way back to Kuroko’s house and by the time they finally reached it, Kise was in a permanent state of bending – likening himself to the leaning tower of Pisa in Italy. He was surprised both he and the actual structure hadn’t fallen over yet.

“Thank you for walking me back, Kise-kun. Please take this back now,” Kuroko said, taking Kise’s hand out of his pocket and physically handing it back to him. Kise used his other hand to hold his own forearm and move his hand (which, for the record was unbelievably sweaty and twice as embarrassing) back in his own jacket pocket.

Anyone other than Kuroko would’ve cracked a smile and laughed. Kise was now too tired to care. “You’re welcome,” he replied, forcing himself to stay smiling.

Kuroko walked inside and turned to close the door – an act that the blond took it as his queue to get home and rest his aching side in the hot bath he’d been craving for the last twenty minutes.

“Oh, Kise-kun, wait,” came the small voice from behind the door. Kise’s heart nearly gave up at the sound and his brain switched to auto pilot as he walked backwards into the position he’d been in a few seconds ago like a tape being played backwards.

“I would invite you in but you are so hot I’m worried you’ll sky-rocket my air conditioning bill,” deadpanned Kuroko, his face peeking out through the crack in the door which was shut promptly and forcefully as soon as Kise had half a second to figure out what had even been said.

 

The blond practically floated home that night, his thoughts clouded with the replay of Kuroko's line - which, he had to admit was far more suave than any of his had been. The ache in his side that a few minutes ago had been agonising was no longer bothering him in the slightest.

 

When he did finally get home after another fifteen minutes of walking (although it didn't feel like that at all to the lovestruck model), he claimed the bathroom, stripped off and ran the water. Only when he was waiting for the bath to fill did he think of checking his phone which had been safely tucked inside his bag all day. It would be pretty awful if someone was trying get hold of him and he hadn't even noticed.

When he opened his phone he was surprised to find a message he actually had an interest in reading. Unpon opening the message (after at least two minutes of nervous cries and shaking) he assumed that he'd been blessed by an angel. In the words of Midorima; 'it truly was his lucky day'.

_'From: kurokocchi <3, received; 17:49_  
_Subject: Saturday. Maybe._  
_Message: I don’t think Kagami-kun will mind too much if I say something has come up and I cannot train with him this weekend. I am not the best of liars but Kagami-kun isn’t the best at noticing them.  
_ _I will let you choose the film. I am fine with horrors.’_

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write more on this but I ran out of steam and I don't ever want to look at [another pick-up line again](http://www.pickuplinesgalore.com/cheesy.html). Also, Kise totally wet himself at the horror movie they ended up watching.  
> 


End file.
